I lived a fragile life in a form of a rose,
I sang my sorrows & wonders,
I painted my heart with golden rays of sun,
beneath Waterfalls, I drew the epic journey to centre of love and union.
I burnt the illusion of my petals, color, even the seeds of my essence.
I gave birth to innocence of present between walls of my kingdom.
I waited patiently, to smell my own fragrance, before the end of my life.
Who is she Now?
The silent ebb of love, the enchanted rose!
Winds and dancing trees, sky and floating clouds,
The bare simple moment on being aware,
In space, in time,
Marrying to magic and aloneness of being so fragile, so tender.
“I belong to no one and yet
The gentle force of dark mother,
Breathe in me,
Eyes of silence, gazing into Heart of universe,
Chanting my name.”
O, the rose is bloomed
The mystery of her fragrance whirls
Around the enchanted garden of the beloved.
Her petals are mortal worshiper
on alter of love,
Ah, it is her fragrance which is eternal.
The joy bearer of sun,
the moist lips of wanting
On soil of Earth,
Ah, mother of all,
Grand me a death in the name of a rose,
A burial worthy of beautiful Queens,
I fell in love with smell of my own petals,
The soft, the thorn,
the majestic kingdom of love,
I am the enchanted rose.
Risen from the dark womb of all.
Seek no more, the mad heart,
You are the One.